


take my hand, take my whole life too

by sonlali



Series: Cuddling Ficlets [8]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Queer Relationship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reluctant Cuddles, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22746892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonlali/pseuds/sonlali
Summary: patrick is feeling overwhelmed with wedding planning and misses david.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Cuddling Ficlets [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1614172
Comments: 34
Kudos: 187





	take my hand, take my whole life too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RhetoricalQuestions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhetoricalQuestions/gifts).



> prompt fill for RQ from [this cuddling prompt list.](https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/post/190450918007/cuddling-prompts-send-me-a-and-ill-write-a) thanks for the prompt!
> 
> 8\. Reluctantly
> 
> title from "Can't Help Falling In Love." i recommend the Haley Reinhart version

Patrick wakes up to an empty bed. It’s been empty every morning this week. He sighs. David has been suffering from insomnia lately, his mind preoccupied with flower arrangements and seating charts. Patrick is excited about the wedding plans too—he was up late last night reviewing the contracts with the photographer and caterer—but he really misses his fiancé. He can barely remember the last time they cuddled up on the couch with a movie or enjoyed a lazy morning snuggled under the covers. Patrick really misses holding David in his arms.

Patrick rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up, peering around his apartment. David isn’t on the couch scrutinizing floorplans. He isn’t pacing the kitchen floor cradling a mug of coffee in one hand and tapping out emails on his phone with the other. He isn’t in the bathroom fussing with his hair or methodically applying various skincare products. Patrick frowns. David isn’t in the apartment at all. 

It’s barely 6 in the morning, so there’s only a handful of places David could be. Patrick suspects he probably returned to the motel for some reason, perhaps to reference something in one of his many wedding binders. Patrick wants to go to the motel, pull David close and bury his face in his favorite spot on David’s neck—that spot where he likes to nuzzle and kiss and inhale the spicy scent of David’s cologne. 

But going to the motel right now would likely result in Patrick getting stopped by one or more Roses. He might get trapped in a meandering conversation about the weather with Mr. Rose. Or maybe he would bump into Alexis as she heads out for her morning jog and somehow get roped into providing a quote praising the _Crows_ movie, specifically Alexis’ role in its promotion, for Alexis to use on her new website advertising her services. Or worse yet, he might awaken Mrs. Rose, who would corral him into watching the _Crows_ movie for the eleventh time. David wouldn’t appreciate the interruption, and Patrick probably wouldn’t be allowed the space and privacy to cuddle with David anyway.

Patrick sighs again and decides that he’ll just wait to see David at the store. He considers heading out to the gym or taking a hike, as he normally would before work, but Patrick just isn’t feeling motivated today. He decides to go straight to the store where he can at least be surrounded by the physical embodiment of David’s heart and soul. Patrick rolls out of bed and stumbles drowsily into the bathroom to take a quick shower before setting off for the Apothecary. 

When Patrick reaches the store, he’s surprised to see that the lights are already on. He’s certain they turned them off at closing last night. Patrick fishes his key from his pocket and lets himself inside. He follows the sound of music playing softly in the stockroom and is shocked to find David sitting at the table pouring over his notebook. David looks up and sees Patrick standing in the doorway. A wide smile spreads across his face.

“Patrick! What are you doing here?” 

“I could ask the same of you,” Patrick retorts. 

“Touché.” David grins again. “I couldn’t sleep and I wanted to go over the plans for the knitting workshop, so I decided to come in early.”

“The workshop’s not until—” 

“Tomorrow?” David raises an eyebrow.

“What?!” Patrick pulls out his phone to look at the date. “I thought… I… I guess I lost track of time.”

“Mm, it’s okay. I’ve got it all taken care of. Millie is coming at 6:30 tomorrow evening to set up, and I’m going to set out some wine and cheese and… Patrick, are you okay?”

“Huh, yeah, I’m… yeah. Good.” Patrick suddenly feels like crying, and he has no idea why. He feels fragile and unsettled and restless. “I’m just going to… I’ll go clean the bathroom.”

Patrick leaves before David can question his strange behavior any further and locks himself in the bathroom, tears stinging at his eyes. _What is wrong with him?_ Maybe he’s just tired and stressed about the wedding. Patrick busies himself scrubbing first the toilet and then the tile floor. The pungent scent of cleaning supplies burns his nose, but Patrick barely notices. He scrubs until his arm is aching and sweat is beading at his temples. 

The physical exertion helped to settle some of the restless energy, but Patrick still feels strangely _off_ in some undefinable way. He exits the bathroom and heads back to the stockroom, where David is now squinting at menu options from the caterers. 

“There you are. That bathroom must be sparkling with all the time you spent in there.” David flashes a warm smile that Patrick doesn’t return. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Patrick shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“C’mere, honey.” David beckons to the chair next to his at the table. “I need your help. I still can’t decide between the red velvet and the dark chocolate ganache. Which one did you prefer? I think we might need to ask Mira for another sample of each.”

Patrick stares blankly at David’s notebook.

“It depends entirely on the entrée, of course, so maybe we should reconsider the… Patrick, are you listening?”

“Yeah, yes, of course, David. Um, which do you think is best?” 

David rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue impatiently. “Patrick, I want to know what _you_ would prefer. I’m asking for your opinion. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, of course. I’m fine, David. I’d go with the chocolate raspberry.” Patrick stands from the table and shoves his hands back in his pockets. “Did we get the new shipment of soaps yesterday?”

“Chocolate raspberry wasn’t one of the options, and the soap came in on Monday. It’s already out on the shelves. Patrick, what’s bothering you?” David stands and takes a step closer to Patrick, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Nothing, David. I think I’m just tired. I’m going to the café for a tea. Do you need a coffee?” Patrick is out the door before David has a chance to respond. 

\--

“Good morning, Patrick!” Twyla greets Patrick as he enters the café. Her sunny smile quickly slips away to a more thoughtful expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Nothing is wrong! I’m fine.” Patrick flops into a seat at the counter and glares down at his hands. 

“It’s probably the frown that’s making people think something is wrong. And also the shouting. Your usual?” Twyla smiles brightly and retreats to the kitchen, her ponytail swinging cheerfully behind her. 

Patrick feels like a prized asshole. So far this morning, he’s been distracted and short with David and now he’s snapping at Twyla. 

Twyla returns with Patrick’s tea and a large poppyseed muffin. 

“Oh, David, doesn’t like poppyseed.”

“It’s for you, silly. I thought you could use a little pick-me-up. It’s on me.” Twyla beams.

“Twyla, I’m sorry for—” Patrick begins, but Twyla cuts him off with a wave of her hand.

“Everyone has bad days sometimes. Let me know when you’re heading out, and I’ll grab David’s coffee.”

“Thanks, Twyla. And—”

“And a large chocolate muffin for David. I know.” Before Patrick can respond, Twyla is gliding away, greeting Bob with a mug of coffee and a handful of tissues. 

Patrick picks at the muffin and sips his tea slowly. He feels utterly useless today. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s felt off all week. He’s distracted and antsy. He feels on edge, his muscles tense and brain buzzing. He watches as Twyla wipes at a mysterious brown stain on one of the tables. Whatever it is appears to be both sticky and crunchy, thoroughly resistant to Twyla’s efforts to remove it. She seems completely unbothered and continues humming serenely. 

Patrick thinks about David getting up early to work on tomorrow’s workshop and review wedding plans. David must be running on very little sleep, but he seemed perfectly content as he scribbled in his notebook. How is David—the man who usually refuses to roll out of bed any earlier than 10 a.m.—happily working for hours before the store even opens? David has been juggling so much with the wedding plans and the workshop Patrick completely forgot about, but he’s barely made a complaint. Meanwhile, Patrick has felt overwhelmed and paralyzed with indecision each time David asks for his input. 

“Patrick?” Twyla’s voice is soft as she interrupts his anxious thought spiral. “Here’s David’s coffee and muffin. I think you might want to head over to the store now. It’s almost 9:00.”

“Oh my god!” Patrick jolts out of his seat so abruptly the stool clatters to the floor noisily. “Thank you, Twyla! I completely lost time of track. I mean, track of… never mind. See you later.”

Patrick races out of the café with David’s coffee and muffin, his own tea and half-eaten muffin left forgotten in his haste. He flings himself through the Apothecary doors, flipping the sign to “open” behind him. 

David crosses the store slowly, reaching past Patrick to flip the sign back to “closed” and turn the lock. He takes the coffee and muffin, juggling them in one hand, while grabbing Patrick’s hand with the other. 

“David… what?” Patrick blinks in confusion.

“C’mon, sweetie.” David pulls him gently to the stockroom, and Patrick trails along obediently, helpless to do anything else.

David leads them to the old couch crammed into the stockroom, setting the coffee and muffin on the table beside it. He sits down, back against the arm and one leg stretched out along the length of the sofa. He pulls Patrick down to lean against David’s chest, wrapping his arms around Patrick securely. He brings his other leg up off the floor to bracket Patrick between his legs. Patrick is surrounded completely by David now and the tension in his muscles starts slipping away almost instantly. Patrick wants to relax fully into David, but he resists the temptation. 

“David… what? We can’t do this right now. The store—”

“Shh, Patrick, it’s okay. The store can wait. We’ll open a little late today.”

“David, no, we can’t—” Patrick tries to get up, but David’s arms are keeping him firmly in place. 

“Yes, we can, honey. We can. Now, talk to me. Please?” David’s voice is low and reassuring.

“I… David…” 

David runs one hand down Patrick’s arm soothingly. The other hand reaches for Patrick’s and links their fingers together. David kisses his temple, a gentle, barely there brush of lips, and Patrick’s eyes burn with unshed tears. 

“It’s just… you’re doing so much and I feel like I’m not doing anything at all.”

“For the wedding?” David asks gently. 

“Yes, but also here at the store. I just feel overwhelmed and guilty for not doing anything. And… I really miss you.” Patrick sniffles.

“Honey, I’m right here. I’ve been right here.” David kisses just behind Patrick’s ear. 

“But it’s been so long since we just… were together.” Heat rushes to Patrick’s face, embarrassment surging through him at the words. “I’m just overreacting. We don’t need to do this right now. It’s nothing.”

David allows Patrick to slip from his embrace this time and Patrick gets to his feet unsteadily. He looks at David and feels his heart break a little at the expression on David’s face. David looks so hurt and confused, and Patrick wants to crawl back into bed and start this day over. David’s long limbs curl inwards like a flower wilting. His chin drops to his chest and his hands come together in his lap, fidgeting anxiously. Patrick feels David’s hurt wash over his own body like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over his head. 

“David…” 

“Patrick, none of this matters.” David gets to his feet, straight-backed with his chin held high, but Patrick can still see the hurt in David’s expressive eyes. “The wedding, the store, the fucking knitting workshop—none of it fucking matters if _we_ aren’t okay. All of this, we’re doing all of this so we can build a life together, and if you’re feeling… overwhelmed or… or upset, then don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

Patrick feels his lower lip wobble and he falls forward into David’s arms.

“This,” David gestures between their bodies. “Us, our relationship, how we feel… this is not nothing. And if there’s something you're feeling that is upsetting you this much, then it’s not nothing, Patrick. If we need to take time away from planning the wedding, or fuck, even if we need to take time away from the store—we can take that time. We can take that time for us.”

Patrick clings to David, finally burying his face in that perfect spot on David’s neck. 

“Can we… can we cuddle for a bit?” He whispers into David’s skin. 

“We can do that.” David leads them back to the couch and wraps himself around Patrick.

“I guess… When I said I missed you, I meant this. We haven’t had time lately to just cuddle, and I’ve missed this closeness.” Patrick rests his head on David’s chest, allowing the steady rhythm of David’s heartbeat to soothe any lingering restlessness in his bones.

“I’ve missed this too.” David presses a kiss to the top of Patrick’s head. “Let’s do a better job setting aside time for this, okay?”

“Okay.” Patrick brings David’s left hand up to his mouth, pressing tender kisses along each of his gold rings. “Thank you, David.”

There’s a smile in David’s voice as he speaks. “For what?”

“For reminding me of what’s most important, that this— _us_ —is what’s most important.”

Patrick allows his eyes to slip closed, sinking into David’s embrace and smiling as his body floods with warm relief. He has nothing to worry about as long as he’s here in David’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr [@landofsonlali](https://landofsonlali.tumblr.com/)!


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